Page 95 of Atone

I rest my palm over the back of his hand and try to offer him the same. “I’m right here.”

He nods, finally pulling back. And when his car door opens, I’m swept with a chill I know has nothing to do with the night.

Alex circles the car to open my door for me, and I take his hand for the lifeline it is as I step out. He wraps an arm around my shoulders while Patience stands at his other side. Her gaze skips between us, and I wonder what she’s thinking about my relationship with her brother.

She was too distracted by him talking to her for her to say anything, but I’m well aware that doesn’t mean she’s going to let this go.

As we approach the front door, a short man with thick eyebrows steps aside to hold the door for us.

“Alex. Patience.” He punctuates each name with a nod before looking at me and pausing.

“Mila,” I offer him my name.

He doesn’t repeat it. “Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster are in the library.”

“The library?” I whisper, stepping inside.

How big is this house if it has a library?

My question is answered as I step through the front door, and the foyer stretches before us. The floors are solid marble, polished to the point of being mirrors.

Maybe a skirt wasn’t the best choice of outfit.

Large portraits hang on the walls, framed in perfectly polished silver frames. The lights are dim and somehow bright enough to see everything. Every overpriced piece of furniture is in perfect condition.

It’s more like a museum than a home, and it’s hard to picture Alex and Patience growing up here.

My sandals have a simple one-inch heel, but they click with every step, echoing off the walls. This is the opposite of my childhood, where I was raised moving from one town to the next in a small trailer. Running wild at the carnival. Dirt and wind and open space.

As large as this place is, there’s nothing open and free about it. The air is nearly suffocating.

When we reach an open set of doors that must be the library, Alex slows his steps. I expect something along the lines of the office at Sigma House, so when I glance through the doors, my breath catches.

The library is three stories tall inside, with books stretching floor to ceiling on the left and right. The final wall is mostly windows, with a fireplace crackling in the corner and more than one set of couches sprinkled throughout.

Alex’s parents are seated on a couch closest to the fire, and the sight of them puts me on edge. My shoulders tense, and my steps all but pause as we step inside. Alex must notice because he drops his hand to my waist and pulls me closer.

Gideon and Ursa Lancaster lift their gazes from their drinks, spotting us standing outside the library. Ursa frowns, but Gideon offers nothing with his expression, reminding me more of his son than I’d like with his cool, unreadable façade as he stands, crossing the room.

A practiced smile stretches his cheeks, faking it for his son’s sake when he’s been clear to me about his feelings.

“Good you could make the trip back for the night,” he says to Patience. “Your mother would like to speak with you. And you can take your…”—he lances me with his stare—“friendwith you… I need to talk to Alex for a moment. Alone.”

My nails dig into my palms, and I hope Alex meant what he said about not leaving my side. But since Patience is here to act as a barrier, maybe he didn’t.

Alex’s cool gaze stays trained on his father while he considers something. It’s Patience who breaks first, taking a step forward.

She places a hand on her brother’s arm. “Mila will be fine. Go talk to Dad.”

Alex reluctantly looks at his sister, and she’s silently pleading with him about something. The dynamic between the four of them is unlike anything I’ve seen. A chess matchof emotional warfare, while I navigate how to survive among them for the night.

“We’ll be fine.” Patience looks to me for help. “Right?”

“Right,” I agree, even if I don’t want Alex to leave me at the mercy of his mother. “You can find me when you’re done.”

Alex untangles his arm from my waist but doesn’t turn away immediately. He brushes his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

Without words, he says everything in his gaze. He’s asking me if he can go. If I’m okay. If he can trust this situation.